(Obtained from www.cubanet.org, Septembre 22, 2003. Translated by Margarita Garcia)
On September 7, 2003, I got a telephone call from my husband, Manuel Vázquez Portal from the Aguadores Jail in Santiago de Cuba. He told me that he was stopping the hunger strike he had begun eight days before, on August 31 and he would be tranfered back to Boniato Prison.
With my heart in a knot, I headed three days later for Santiago de Cuba with a bag of food and other provisions for my husband. He had refused the package I had taken to him in the last visit just prior to his hunger strike because they had confiscated half of the cigarrettes, the medicines and many other things.
I arrived in the city with the idea of going to Boniato, since I thought that there was where my husband had been transfered, but Ana Maria Escobedo -- who has graciously offered her house to the wives of the political prisoners – thought of calling the Department of Prisons beforehand. Then we learned that Manuel was still in Aguadores.
To Aguadores then we went, Ana Maria and I, with the uncertainty of maybe having to carry back the heavy packages we were taking with us. When I arrived, I was told that somebody was waiting for me. Nevertheless, I had to wait more than an hour to be received.
The person who wanted to see me was officer Ramiro, a veritable “Mother Theresa of Calcutta” of the State Security Police, who tenderly forced me to carry out an almost monologue with him. He wanted to inform me, among other things, that Manuel had four serious problems: his diary, his “little poems,” the meeting of August 13, and the hunger strike. However, so that I could see that he wasn’t so bad, he was willing to forget those infractions. Of course, I should know – he continued – that the State Security Police knows everything and keeps a record of everything, so that if there shiould be, in the future, any plan to improve the conditions of the 75*, such as keeping them in prisons near their homes...
Well, if I behaved and stopped making these statements to the press that are really hurting Vázquez, and if I could convince my husband to follow the rules, given that he likes me so much, well... maybe they could concede me the big favor of keeping my husband nearer Havana for the 18 years of his sentence.
This officer, who constantly kept near me, would not stop telling me how merciful he really was, and that nobody could accuse him of not talking to people before taking any harsh measures.
Then, they brought my husband in, without handcuffs or shackles, and we could embrace for a long time. We were left alone in the office of the Director of the Prison for about fifteen minutes!. Then, Mother Theresa of Calcutta reappeared and ended our meeting. They took Manuel away, again with no handcuffs or shackles. The magnanimous officer Ramiro went with me back to the entrance of the jail and reiterated along the way how misunderstood he was by the opponents.
Later, when I was back in the house of Ana Maria Escobedo together with Dolia, the wife of Nelson Aguiar (she had been able to visit with her husband for only a few minutes), who appears at the door but Mother Theresa od Calcutta himself? He announced that a second visit had been approved for me, and displaying his infinite kindness, he recommended that I should prepare some nice meat dish for Manuel.
Next day, after waiting for about two hours, officer Ramiro showed up very apologetic for having making me wait. He took me to an office prepared for our meeting. There, Manuel told me about what his hunger strike had accomplished: television for four hours a week; to be taken to the yard without handcuffs or shackles; to have a visit of more than one hour; to be able to receive his packages complete, without things being confiscated by the guards; improvement in the food from putrid to just bad; and, although still with leaks and with insects crawling, he has a bigger isolation cell (the toilet in this one is not 5 centimeters from his head),
The most important thing was that the hunger strike called international attention on the infrahuman conditions to which the prisoners of conscience were being subjected.
My husband also told me that he had drawn a Cuban flag, a palm tree and a white rose on the walls of his cells, and under them he wrote: “Our country is an altar, not a pedestal” ** and “People who submit to a tyranny deserve it.”
My visit to Aguadores, the jail where my husband was transferred to because of his strike in Boniatico, ended. I left with a sour taste in my mouth because I was leaving him, but also with a very sweet taste because of his love for our country.
* Refers to the 75 journalists, librarians, writers and human rights activists who were sentenced to long prison terms in a crackdown on dissidents on April, 2003.
** This is a famous phrase of José Martí (“La patria es ara y n o pedestal”)